


One

by brightly_lit



Series: Feathers [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Wedding Night, Wedding Planning, Weddings, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightly_lit/pseuds/brightly_lit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas are finally getting married!  After facing some great hardships in their relationship, for the first time ever, life is perfect.  Well, almost perfect.  Dean just doesn't get why Cas never comes up with the idea of having sex himself or initiates anything in bed.  Cas gets wind of Dean's feelings on the matter and makes some attempts to remedy this, with entertainingly horrifying results ....</p>
            </blockquote>





	One

**Author's Note:**

> Though this story stands on its own, it has 3 prequels if you would like to see how the story has unfolded up to here:
> 
> Feathers: http://archiveofourown.org/works/674207
> 
> Human: http://archiveofourown.org/works/690611
> 
> Union: http://archiveofourown.org/works/713990

It was a rare afternoon when only Dean and Sam were around the house. Cas was tending his garden, and Virginia--the girl who’d finally captured Sam’s heart--was at work. Dean handed Sam a list of things to do--ostensibly “best man” duties, but really just wedding crap Dean didn’t want to have to do himself. Sam looked at the list, rolled his eyes, and tossed it back to Dean. “What?” Dean said. “One of the many perks of getting married! You made me do all kinds of crap for your wedding; it’s payback time.” 

Sam had only gotten married a couple months before, and here was Dean--Dean, who was sure he wasn’t marriage material, who was sure he would never get married--about to tie the knot himself. Knots ... mmm, yet another benefit of marriage.

“Oh, yes, you were so diligent about your best man duties,” Sam said. Not a lot got to him these days, but being reminded of Dean’s less-than-stellar best man performance irked him anew. “Nope, you know what? I’m gonna do exactly as good a job at being your best man as you did at being mine.”

Dean scowled. “That’s not fair! It wasn’t my fault!”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Who else’s fault could it possibly be?” he asked icily.

“I did my best! ... kind of.”

“You didn’t do anything! So that’s what I’m gonna do: I’m gonna sit around, enjoy your wedding, and do jack shit, exactly like you did at mine.”

“Fine, fine,” Dean said, taking back the list and scanning it anxiously. It wasn’t like he had any idea how to pull off a wedding. He’d been counting on Sam for help, because Cas knew even less about event planning than Dean did, if such a thing was possible, but okay, he’d done a piss-poor job of being a best man and he knew it. Fair was fair. “Just as long as I get Pastor Jim there, we’ll be married at the end of it, and that’s what matters, right?”

“You might want to feed your guests.”

“We’ll grill up some dogs and burgers.”

Sam looked heavenward with a tolerant expression, smirking.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?” Dean demanded.

“Nothing. Just, you know ... we’re hunters, so I’ve been to some less-than-classy weddings in my time, but I think this one might take the prize.”

“It’s better than Vegas!”

“No ... no, at least in Vegas there are flowers, people dress up, there’s some sense of decorum, even if it’s fake. This is shaping up to be a barbecue where someone happens to get married.”

“Whatever!” said Dean, more upset than he wanted to let on. He wanted their wedding to be perfect for Cas, but if he’d managed to screw up Sam’s wedding--even trying his best to stay out of it as much as possible--his own wedding would probably be a disaster of epic proportions. Just last night, he’d had a dream that the apocalypse was starting again, and the epicenter turned out to be Dean and Cas’s wedding. It didn’t help that Cas seemed to think an angel daring to marry was human was an act so shameless and defiant, it would shake heaven and earth. Dean surveyed his list of wedding preparations, and when he realized his hands were shaking with anxiety, he tossed it aside, hoping Sam hadn’t noticed.

Maybe he had, because his voice was gentle when he said, “Cas still isn’t on board, is he?”

“He’s willing. He just isn’t happy about it.”

“So maybe you guys should wait.”

“Waiting would be the worst thing; it’d just give him time to come up with more reasons not to do it.”

“Well ...,” Sam began hesitantly, as if afraid Dean wouldn’t like what he was about to say, and when Sam thought that, he was usually right. Dean looked him in the eye guardedly, ready to get mad. “You know you don’t have to buy the loaf to get free slices. You guys already act like you’re married. Maybe the piece of paper isn’t that important.”

Dean wasn’t mad; he just looked down, feeling the pain of all the nights of trying to talk Cas into this and listening to Cas’s heart-rending claims that he “didn’t deserve it” and “was too lowly for such an honor.” “No, Sam, you don’t get it--that’s why we have to get married, so Cas ... so he ... so he knows ... he’s worth it.”

Sam looked down, too, nodding. “Just ... your relationship isn’t like anyone else’s. Maybe you don’t have to treat it like everyone else’s.”

“He’s human now; he should get to have the good stuff of being human,” Dean snapped. “I’m the one that made it so he had to be human; the least I can do is try to make it better for him!”

Sam just looked kind of sad. Then, ever aware of what was really getting to Dean even when Dean wasn’t, he said, “He still doesn’t initiate, does he?”

“No,” Dean said defensively, “but it doesn’t matter; it’s cool, I don’t mind.” Sam didn’t buy it for a second, but he knew better than to say so. In fact, he took the list back and very kindly offered to take care of one or two items on it, after which Dean tried to get to work on some of them himself to keep his mind off the topic Sam had brought up. 

Sex with Cas was literally the best thing ever. There were a lot of things Dean loved in this world--sex, pie, burgers, women, his car, his family, for starters--and still, angel sex trumped them easily. Dean would go to any lengths to get to do it with Cas. Sitting there at work in adjacent rooms, Dean had to work hard to keep his mind on business. It was so easy to drift off, imagining what they might get up to once the day was over and they were home. He never even thought twice about arranging his life to make it convenient to spend time with Cas and do whatever they might do. So why didn’t Cas feel the same? Dean had to finesse the situation quite energetically to make sure Cas finally got interested enough to stick around for more lovin’ instead of disappearing and going off to do something else just as Dean was really getting into it. Cas had explained to him multiple times that it was because he was an angel and had no inherent sexuality, but he definitely seemed to enjoy it once they got going, so why in all the time since he merged with Jimmy had he never tried to start things off himself? It was like the thing Dean was more desperate for than anything was something Cas never wanted of his own accord at all. 

It was depressing, upsetting--kind of pathetic, really--but Dean couldn’t afford to think about it, because if he did, he’d feel sad about their relationship, and he couldn’t do that because Cas would know; and their relationship, despite its issues, was still the best thing that had ever happened to Dean; and because it wasn’t Cas’s fault. Dean couldn’t get mad that Cas didn’t dig him the way he dug Cas. He loved everything about Cas, and Cas seemed to love him, too, and that was a miracle right there. Who was he to expect more? Any angel couldn’t help feeling like their human lover was inferior to them and maybe not that sexy, but especially Cas, since Dean was such a ... well, loser. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. So Dean would happily take what he could get, and he just wouldn’t think about it; he refused to. Cas was perfect and Dean wasn’t; what else was new? He was lucky to get to have sex with him at all.

It was all worth it when he got home and Cas was there. Seeing his astonishingly blue eyes light up at the sight of Dean, hearing his strange, low voice say his name in greeting ... he was the luckiest guy on the planet. “Hey, baby,” Dean said, kissing Cas on the head and grabbing a plate to join them for dinner, “whatcha talking about?”

“Our wedding,” Cas said warmly--then rather shyly, “We’re making plans for it.”

Dean caught Sam’s eye and saw immediately that he had Sam to thank for this. A surge of love poured through him for the brother who was the kind of guy who would help him out even though he hadn’t earned it just ’cause he knew he needed help. “Awesome. What plans?”

Virginia was smirking, and Dean arched an eyebrow at her. “Just ... most couples are fighting over the details, and you two kind of ... haven’t even come up with any details yet.”

“Yes, we have,” Cas corrected. “I’ll be serving strawberries from my garden.”

“And we’ll be wearing suits!” Dean protested defensively. “I mean, we don’t have any yet, but we’ll get some, if ... if I can find a place that has ’em for cheap. You know.”

“Also squash,” Cas added.

Virginia cracked up, but at least she hid it behind her hand. Sam was shaking his head slightly in disbelief. “That’s a good start,” Virginia said with effort. Aw, she was really a nice person. “Have you, uh ... thought about who’s going to be your best man?”

Cas looked to Dean, confused, and Sam filled him in. “It’s a guy you like and trust, someone who’ll help you through the wedding. Your best friend.”

“Dean,” Cas said instantly in his low monotone.

“It can’t be me; you’re marrying me,” Dean said quickly.

Cas turned immediately to Sam. “Sam,” he said in the same way.

“I’m, um, already Dean’s best man,” Sam said gently, “so it has to be somebody else.”

Cas looked crushed. “I really ... have no close male friends besides you two.”

“It doesn’t have to be a guy,” Sam offered. “It can be a girl.”

Cas turned to Virginia, who attempted a grin that ended up more like a wince. “Uh ... sure, Cas, I’m, um ... I’ll help you out ....” It couldn’t be more clear that she didn’t want to do it. She and Cas liked each other, but they weren’t best buddies or anything.

“But maybe there’s some other girl you’re better friends with,” Sam said quickly. “Virginia won’t be offended if you go with someone else, trust me.” Sam and Virginia shared a look.

Cas thought for only a moment before his face relaxed into a happy smile. “Jo,” he said. 

Dean gritted his teeth, but forced himself to say, “Great idea, Cas! You should call her and see if she’s willing to do it.” Not like Dean didn’t love Jo and everything, but if she was in the wedding party, Dean knew she would find the time to make all manner of trouble for Dean. She seemed to live for that. Cas immediately got up and called Jo, and Dean could hear her squeal of joy from across the room at being asked. Drat. But yay. Yay for Cas. Ugh.

Sam and Cas cleaned up the dishes. Dean could see Sam had arranged this so he could get some time to educate Cas about weddings--something Dean had been trying and failing to do for some time now, knowing little about weddings himself--so he left them to it ... until he glanced over from the livingroom couch to see them talking earnestly in low voices. They both looked at that moment toward Dean, as if he was the subject of their conversation. Dean was shocked to realize Cas looked stricken at whatever Sam was saying. What the fuck?! Dean leaped up and stormed in there.

“What are you guys talking about?” he demanded.

Sam and Cas eyed each other, then Sam looked away diffidently. He shrugged. “Nothing,” he said, and wandered out of the room.

Dean turned to Cas, whose eyes were darting around the room anxiously as if still reeling from whatever Sam had told him. “What did he say to you?” Dean demanded. “I’ll kick his ass!”

“Noth--nothing he shouldn’t have said,” Cas said, his eyes wide, his voice kind of quavering.

“Tell me what he said!” Dean knew Cas wouldn’t ever lie to him.

Cas was peering into Dean’s eyes in a familiar way: the way he read minds. Cas’s eyebrow quirked up in shock and his eyes suddenly looked sadder at whatever he found there. “Nothing untrue,” he whispered.

 

Sam had conveniently left with Virginia right then so Dean couldn’t beat it out of him, but he found out what it was soon enough. Cas had gotten ready for bed first. Dean had showered and was coming out of the bathroom to join him for sleep and, ideally, a little something else first, to find Cas, oddly enough, fully dressed in a bedraggled suit, though he had showered just before Dean. “Here,” Cas said, handing Dean a fresh bag of Funyuns.

“Thanks.” Dean took it. Okay, kind of weird, but he wasn’t going to turn down a perfectly good snack for no reason. Anyway, weird was par for the course when you lived with Cas. 

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean. “I know you like snacks.”

“Love ’em,” Dean agreed, shoving a handful in his mouth. 

“They improve your mood. Besides, it’s romantic to give small gifts that demonstrate awareness of one’s partner’s favorite things."

“Guess so,” Dean agreed. Still not going to look a gift bag of Funyuns in the mouth.

Cas squinted further. “Do you find me appealing?” he murmured then.

“You know I do,” Dean said casually, finally remembering to offer some of the Funyuns to Cas, who demurred.

“Perhaps you would like ... this better?” Cas suggested, removing the suit jacket to reveal a tight t-shirt underneath.

Dean tilted his head to the side. Something about this seemed vaguely familiar, like there was something Cas was getting at; Dean just couldn’t figure out what it was. In all their time together, nothing like this had ever happened. Cas was always just sitting there in whatever sleep outfit he’d chosen for the night--these days, Dean had finally moved him more toward sweats and a t-shirt, though it used to be a full flannel long-sleeved number, complete with nightcap. He would look up at Dean and smile, set down his gardening book or whatever, and lay down politely on his side of the bed, waiting for Dean to join him (and never, ever, apparently, thinking about sex). Cas wasn’t much of an actor, and that had to be what this was ... right? Unless he was maybe ... trying on a suit for the wedding? Dean was baffled.

Cas took off his shirt then, too. It was so tight, this was a bit of a chore, and he still wasn’t that practiced at dressing and undressing, but he finally managed it. Now he was standing there in nothing but dress pants. He took the doffed shirt and threw it forcefully at Dean, who side-stepped it, bewildered. “Are you pissed at me or something?” Cas was still squinting at him. It looked vaguely hostile.

“No,” Cas said, then, belying his word, stepped up to Dean and ripped his sleep shirt right off him.

Dean leaped back, mad now, grasping at the tatters of his shirt, which Cas tossed out of his reach back over his own shoulder. “Hey! I loved that shirt, man!” Dean cried.

“I care not,” Cas declared grandly. “I ... I wish to see you ... unclothed.”

“You could have just asked!”

“Asking is so ... unconfident, and unconfident is so unsexy.”

“Not when you’re not a hundred percent sure they’re gonna like what you’re doing! What the--what the ....” Something was just dawning to Dean. Oh no.

“Let’s have sex,” Cas said without further preamble. Cas was still nearly as strong as he was before Dean and his hunter buddies closed the gate to heaven. He snatched the bag out of Dean’s hand, then threw Dean onto the bed with such force, his body bounced up and his feet nearly hit the wall behind him, but Cas was able to make calculations so rapidly in his mind with his preternatural understanding of physics that Dean stopped just short of slamming into the wall.

“Holy shit,” Dean said, scrambling to his feet out of the bed as Cas calmly stalked him around the room. “No no no--Cas, no.” Once before, Cas had taken things a little far in the bedroom, and even though nothing bad had actually happened, it scared the both of them. Cas still had most of his angelic powers, and he could get so lost in sensual pleasure that he lost the capacity for rational thought. So that Dean could always get his attention before things got out of hand, Cas had taught him some words in Enochian, which Dean said now. An out-of-control Cas didn’t scare him anymore--kind of turned him on, actually--but a deluded Cas? Freakin’ terrifying!

Cas did stop where he was, eyeing Dean uncertainly, but then he seemed to pass it off and kept coming. “I like the way you talk to me in my own language, Dean,” he said creepily. “That’s hot. What a turn-on.”

Dean goggled at Cas for only a moment before screaming and running out of the room like he’d once run from a tiny dog when he was infected with a fear virus. Dean was a brave man, and he’d faced down any number of monsters without flinching, but some things were just too much.

 

After yelling at Sam for a while for telling Cas what he must have told him--that Dean was bummed that he never initiated--Dean went downstairs to sleep on the couch. Sam must then have had a talk with Cas about sexy versus not-sexy, and Cas came to find Dean, contrite, and begged him to come back to their bed, promising not to try anything else “... until I’ve done more research,” he added ominously.

“No no!” Dean said quickly. “No research necessary. You’re totally hot just the way you are, and I wouldn’t change anything. Please, Cas. PLEASE. Never try that again.”

Cas cuddled into his shoulder, his face in Dean’s neck. “I’m terribly sorry,” he whispered. “I was trying to do the right thing.”

“Don’t listen to anything Sam says,” Dean growled, still pissed. His shirt! “He doesn’t know anything.”

Cas gazed into his eyes from inches away. “But he was right.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean said diffidently. “It doesn’t bother me.”

He could tell from the open, troubled expression on Cas’s face that he knew Dean was lying, but he just lowered his head to the pillow, pressing his forehead against Dean’s upper arm, and said nothing. Cas didn’t comprehend lies. It was only because of this that Dean realized he lied a lot, just like this, when there was something he didn’t want to talk about for whatever reason. Cas didn’t understand why Dean told lies they both knew were lies, but he respected Dean enough to let him say them as he pleased without giving him a hard time about it, which was one of the countless things that made Cas wonderful, but now Dean felt bad. Thanks a lot, Sam, he thought for the thousandth time that evening. Now I’m going to have to think of a way to make Cas forget about this. 

 

He didn’t think of it soon enough. He woke to the soothing sounds of Barry White and the scent of rose petals. He opened his eyes to see Cas leering down at him. “Hey, baby,” said Cas.

Dean let out an irritable noise and rolled over, crushing a giant pile of rose petals that seemed to have been sprinkled over him in his sleep. 

“How ’bout a nice hot bath and then you and me get down to business?” Cas suggested in a low murmur. 

“No,” Dean groaned, trying to shake off sleep. “Cas, you--”

Cas’s fingers touched his forehead, and then they were in the piping hot bath--also sprinkled with rose petals and surrounded by unlit candles. Cas snapped his fingers, and all the candles lit at once. Dean let out a shout of surprise as he found himself suddenly submerged, but Cas just nodded at him coolly, like a dude in a ’70’s porno trying to reassure a nervous lover. “It’s all right, baby,” Cas whispered, awkwardly clambering over Dean’s body to try to sidle up next to him in the small tub.

Being zapped into a bathtub immediately upon waking made it that much harder to get his bearings. Dean had come up with a few ideas before falling asleep for throwing Cas off the whole idea, but they were all out the window now. He had to try to come up with something that addressed the current debacle. “Cas, listen--” he began.

“Oh, I’m listening, baby,” Cas murmured, low and sexy, with lowered lids. This was incredibly distracting. 

“What the--have you been watching porn??” Dean had to ask. Cas arched a lascivious eyebrow at him, and Dean managed not to laugh out loud at the sight, though Dean couldn’t help grinning hugely, which Cas seemed to take for a good sign. Dean did laugh a little, under his breath; he couldn’t keep it in. “What have you been watching, the ’70’s classics?”

“Oh, I’ve been watching everything,” Cas said suggestively as Dean looked on, grinning, full of the same kind of joy he got from an awesome movie. Man, the fun just never stopped when you lived with Cas. Dean was beginning to think maybe this didn’t have to be put to a stop after all. Sexy? Maybe not. Hilarious? Absolutely. Just seeing how Cas interpreted these porn movies he couldn’t possibly comprehend was fascinating in its own right. At least Cas should now have some idea how to go about this and it wouldn’t end up with ruined t-shirts and who knew what else. Dean quirked his head, ready to just enjoy the show. How far would Cas take the act?

Dean’s change of heart seemed to throw Cas off a little. His usual thoughtful expression returned for a little while as he sat in the bath, thinking hard about what to do next. Soon he regrouped and smiled naughtily at Dean. He took a washcloth, soaped it up with some of Virginia’s bath gel, and washed Dean haphazardly for a little while. Dean knew Cas well enough now to be able to read him like a book most of the time, since his expression was usually so open. Even behind the porn-dude veneer, Dean could see Cas wondering if he was supposed to legitimately get Dean clean, or if washing one’s lover in the bath was some kind of symbolic mating ritual. His eyes flickered to Dean’s face now and then to try to get hints off of him, but Dean knew his highly amused expression would be of no help to Cas. “You look like you’re finally starting to enjoy yourself, baby,” Cas tried in his newly invented “sexy” voice.

“Oh, I’m enjoying myself,” Dean assured him without hesitation, then to keep things going, added, “baby.”

“What do you want to do later, baby?” Cas asked, and Dean could tell it was a line straight out of one of the porns he must have watched, though ill-timed, since it was already quite clear exactly what they were going to do later.

Dean shrugged and stated the obvious. “Probably have sex.”

Cas’s face lit up, plainly feeling like he’d succeeded at seducing Dean. If only Cas understood that all he had to do to seduce Dean was suggest, regardless of the time or situation, that perhaps they could have sex, and that Dean would be on board instantly. “That sounds good to me, too, sweetheart,” Cas murmured, getting distracted by some kind of substance on Dean’s skin that wasn’t coming off.

Dean had showered just the night before, and Cas was obviously starting to get more fixated on bathing Dean properly than on the bath’s original purpose, so Dean said, “Think I’m clean now. Let’s get to it.”

Cas looked up at Dean’s face with more like his usual expression of sincere innocence. He appeared to be momentarily relieved for Dean to be taking the lead, but Sam must have been specific about Dean wanting Cas to “initiate,” and Dean saw Cas decide he needed to stay in control. Uh-oh. This was bound to be ... interesting. Cas handed him a towel (the pornos must not have had any sexy drying-off scenes), drained the tub, then began politely cleaning it out. Dean yanked on him. “That can wait.” He waggled his eyebrows at Cas, who watched his eyebrows intently as if to divine what he meant by doing that, before getting it. Cas scrambled to his feet, putting out the candles all at once with another gesture, pausing to hang up the towel. Dean dragged him out of the bathroom back to their room naked, figuring the chances of Virginia being out in the hall right now were pretty slim, and anyway, even if she was, she wouldn’t mind that much.

Once back in their room, Cas paused by the closet. “I could do a strip-tease for you,” he suggested, obviously getting less and less confident the closer they came to the sex. Apparently the seduction scenes made more sense to him than the transition into lovemaking--and actually, thinking back on the kind of pornos Cas mainly seemed to have focused on, Dean remembered them mostly doing a dissolve directly from the seduction to hard-core sex, so no wonder Cas didn’t know what to do now.

Dean considered. A strip-tease would undoubtedly be side-splitting, but despite Cas’s ham-handedness at seduction, Dean was actually getting pretty turned on. He could see that Cas really wanted to accomplish this himself but had no idea what to do now, so Dean tried to help him out while letting him stay in the driver’s seat, as it were. “Nah; at this point, you can pretty much just get straight to the sex.”

“Oh, good,” Cas gushed, hurrying to the bed and climbing in, sweeping some rose petals out of their way onto the floor.

“That was a really good seduction,” Dean offered. “You really got me going with ... all that.”

Cas smiled, pleased, almost preening. Now he rolled onto his side, one knee up in a sort of macho repose, and pointed at the bed next to him. Dean was chuckling almost continuously now. He was, as Cas had once noted, very disobedient. Cas seemed to be playing the part of the dominant guy telling the girl (Dean, apparently) what to do. Dean had never really done what anyone told him to, certainly not under these sorts of circumstances, but hey, whatever floated Cas’s boat. Dean gamely lay down where Cas indicated. Sam had once jokingly asked him who had to be the girl in bed. Just as long as Sam didn’t know that today, it was Dean, Dean didn’t mind that much ... until Cas bent over and attempted to kiss him “sexily.”

Cas had always been a terrible kisser. Once he was really turned on, instinct seemed to take over and it was natural and good, but until then, it couldn’t be more awkward. In fact, that was the part of their wedding Dean was most nervous about. Cas would either pucker up like an old lady or french kiss him with inappropriate passion, and all their hunter friends looking on would laugh at him, and Dean would be mad, right when he wanted to be most happy. Dean thought he must surely have already experienced the most awkward kiss Cas could possibly unleash, but he realized he was mistaken, as Cas tongued him all about the face and mouth. It was kind of like a mother lion cleaning her kittens, only more demanding, hard tongue prodding at him everywhere, mainly in the mouth. Grimacing, Dean tried to go along with it, until he finally had to push Cas away once he realized this could go on indefinitely. “Cas, y-- uh-- Look, um ... great, so now we’re done with the kissing, and we can get to the sex! Sound good?”

“Yes,” Cas intoned. He promptly rolled over on top of Dean and started thrusting, grunting gutterally. Nothing had been inserted anywhere--in fact, Cas wasn’t even hard--he was just going through the motions as Dean watched, confounded. Cas surely knew the mechanics of sex, didn’t he? He must, because he’d been on top before--several times. Then again, these days, he was usually so out of it, he might not actually know how things ended up where they did; Dean was always in the driver’s seat when they were doing it for real. Or he might simply not know how to resolve the fact that they couldn’t do it in all the same positions they could in the hetero porns he’d watched. Maybe he thought this was how humans usually did it, or maybe he thought it was a form of foreplay. There really was no way of knowing. As Cas pretended to have sex with him, Dean thought about what he could do to bring this to its merciful conclusion without hurting Cas’s feelings. He briefly considered faking an orgasm just like the girls from those porns must have, until he realized that would lead, if Cas could at all manage it, to a money shot, and Dean’s blood turned to ice in his veins. No no no! He had to steer this ship away from that iceberg, and he had to do it now. At least now he knew Cas’s reference points, unlike whatever that was last night.

“Ah, so sexy,” Dean forced himself to say. “Wow, that was ... a really unique lovemaking experience, Cas. Thanks!”

Cas stopped grunting and looked up into Dean’s eyes as if nothing at all was going on, like they were standing on the street chatting. “Not unique,” he corrected Dean, the tiniest bit smugly. “I could do this any time.”

Dean prayed Cas didn’t see the horror in his eyes as he involuntarily flinched away, then tried to squirm out from under Cas. Cas let him go, a hint of insecurity seeping into his expression. “Well, that was great,” Dean said briskly, shuddering a little. “So, I know Sam must have told you I wanted you to initiate, and now you did! You’re the best fiance ever.” He kissed Cas, who, on cue, puckered up in that weird exaggerated way he did. “I feel so, uh ... satisfied with that, that I ... don’t ever need anything like that to happen again. Ever. Okay?”

Dean was relieved to see the porn-dude expression fall away to reveal Cas’s usual open sweetness. “I’ll do anything to make you happy,” he said, so sincerely that Dean felt like his heart was torn out of his chest. “Please, Dean. You only need tell me what you want and you will have it.”

Dean could hardly breathe, consumed with love for Cas and fury at Sam and anger at himself for being scummy enough to whine about tiny details of their relationship when Cas was so utterly perfect. Dean clutched Cas close, wiping the tears that kept welling in his eyes on Cas’s hair and shoulder, determined not to let him see them, knowing he already had.

 

Only meaning well, Virginia had suggested they could personalize their wedding vows, and now Cas was obsessed with it. Dean didn’t know how he could fuss over some twenty little words for days, but the piece of paper that had his vows written on it was now covered with substitutions and omissions in various colored pens, and Cas still wasn’t satisfied. Because Cas pored over it after every meal, the whole family was now involved, trying to help, though Dean suspected their assistance only made it worse. When Dean had complained to Sam about Cas’s obsession, Sam had said only, “Well, it kind of makes sense. I mean, you guys aren’t like anyone else. He’s an angel. Why shouldn’t your vows be different?”

Most unfortunately, Cas was especially hung up on the part about obeying. 

“That’s old-school, Cas!” Dean complained. Dean hadn’t known this himself for long, but now he knew more about the history of wedding vows in various countries throughout history (thanks to Cas’s tireless research on the subject) than he’d ever wanted to. “Nobody promises to obey anymore; cut that part out!” Dean tried again to cross it out, but Cas wouldn’t let him.

“Angels were designed to follow orders and to serve humans. I feel I would be remiss if I failed to address that.”

Dean clutched his hair. “Cas, they’re just vows! Most people just say ’em without even thinking about ’em. Come on!”

Cas’s eyes revealed a rare flare of strong feeling. Whenever Dean saw that, he understood what the Bible meant when it used the word “wrath.” Virginia and Sam exchanged a nervous glance. Cas glared at Dean. Slowly, deliberately, he said, “Are you asking me to stand before a man of God and make a vow unto the lord concerning holy matrimony without first considering what I’m vowing?”

Dean knew he’d stepped in it. “No, I just--”

Cas got that thoughtful look, and not in a good way. Sam cleared his throat, looking for an exit. “Which forces me to wonder whether you have considered your vows, Dean,” Cas went on, staring at him hard. A fresh piece of paper appeared in Cas’s hand, which he slapped down on the kitchen table. He poised his pen over it. “So then, what were you intending your vows to be?”

“Just ... just the usual,” Dean hedged. Sam and Virginia quickly excused themselves, the pussies. 

Cas wrote out the usual modern vows quickly, then summarily crossed out the final line. “’As long as we both shall live’ does not suffice for your vows any more than for mine, as, barring murder, I shall live for eternity.”

Dean slumped, wondering how he’d gotten himself into this mess. He cast his mind happily back to Cas’s horrid attempt at initiating sex. Dean wished he could relive that instead of having to navigate this impossible argument over their vows. “Fine, then just say, ‘As long as I live.’”

“But I could indeed be murdered--by hunters who discovered my identity, by my brethren should the gate once again be opened. It is also a possibility that I will age and die after all, or perhaps I’ll one day find myself in a new vessel. So how shall we address all this?”

Dean rubbed his face. All he could think to say was, IT DOESN’T MATTER!, but that certainly hadn’t gone over well when he said it before, so he tried to come up with something else, something that would satisfy Cas. Trouble was, Dean was way out of his depth, knowing almost nothing about vows before the lord or what angels were designed for or even marriage, for that matter. “How ’bout, ‘As long as ... we’re here together.’”

“’... on Earth together,’” Cas corrected, writing it down. This had been going on for days! Cas read over what he’d just written, thinking it through. “And yet, does that apply to plane flights--since we wouldn’t be strictly on the surface of the Earth at those times--or I may even one day use my powers to take you to other realms--?”

Dean snapped. He jumped to his feet. “Cas, stop it! JUST STOP IT! Say your fucking vows and be done with it! It doesn’t matter what you say; all that matters is that you say it!”

Cas’s eyes flared again. He stood up from the table, too. “How dare you suggest it doesn’t matter? What is it that you think we’re about to do, Dean, really? Does it mean so little to you?”

“No, it means so MUCH to me!” Dean burst out. “You can’t say everything it means in a few stupid words! You never could, so why even try? You know what I want to say? The words that’ll get us married. Beyond that, I don’t give a shit! I’ll say I’m a purple pomegranate if it means I’ll be married to you afterwards. I DON’T CARE! Okay? And neither should you!”

They stood there, breathing hard, staring at each other, for a long moment, before Cas’s eyes softened and traveled to the floor, thinking. “Well, then ... if that is how you feel ... there is no magic to the words themselves. The only thing that needs to be expressed is the desire to marry, the ‘I do’ part.”

“Good, then let’s simplify,” Dean growled, still upset. “Let’s just say ‘I do.’”

Cas nodded softly, then hesitated, rethinking this. “Well ... there are ... a few words I would like to say.”

“Me too,” said Dean. “So let’s say ’em, and let that be that.”

Cas looked up into Dean’s eyes, back to be his usual sweet, vulnerable self, and nodded. “Yes, Dean. That makes sense. And if I only say what is in my heart, perhaps I will have committed no wrong in daring to marry.”

“How could it be wrong?” Dean said, crossing the distance between them to hug Cas, his voice surprisingly rough to his own ears. “It’s just love. Just the biggest love we’ve ever known. It’s us.”

Cas didn’t often hug Dean with his wings in addition to his arms, but Dean felt them come around him now, and it was a warmth and comfort unequal to any other he’d ever known.

 

“Don’t you ever tell him anything like that again, Sam, you hear me?” Dean wasn’t satisfied that Sam fully appreciated how wrong he’d been to meddle in their relationship. “It’s delicate, Sam! Cas is delicate. You have to let me handle him! Things can get real complicated real fast, and you’re not the one who has to deal with it, so leave it to me, all right? I know you only meant well, but ... jeez, Sam! You don’t know what you unleashed.”

Actually, he did; Dean had entertained him with some of the details he just couldn’t keep to himself. Sam giggled helplessly now, remembering it. “I’m sorry, Dean, I really am,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “It’s just ....” He sobered for real then. “Dean, I know you keep saying Cas is perfect, and yes, absolutely, he’s great--I’m not arguing with you--I’m just saying, I know he wants to make you happy, and if there’s this thing that’s making you sad, you know ... you guys can work it out. I only told him because I knew he’d want to know. Actually, I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell him yourself.”

“Because he can’t comprehend it, Sam!” Dean hissed, lowering his voice. Cas was in the shower, but he might emerge at any time. “He just doesn’t get it! He’s an angel, and ....” Actually, Dean didn’t really understand what was behind Cas’s incomprehension himself; he only knew that it was so. “Just, trust me, he doesn’t get it, and no amount of explaining or instruction or porn is ever going to make him get it. It’s just not inside him.”

“But if he can do it when you get things started, it must in there somewhere.”

“Look, I don’t know, Sam, okay? But it didn’t work out and I never want to go through that again and everything’s fine, so just leave it alone! Promise me!”

Sam held up his hands. “I promise, Dean. I get it. Trust me, I’ll never do it again. It’s just hard, seeing you both bummed out about this thing. You’ve never exactly been, you know, the relationship guru, and Cas knows even less about long-term relationships. I just thought maybe you could use some help.”

“Yeah, well, if you want to help, talk to me, not to Cas.”

“That doesn’t do any good. You’re too stubborn to listen to my advice.”

“That’s because your advice sucks.”

Dean couldn’t help smirking at Sam, who couldn’t help grinning back. It was funny because it was such a bald-faced lie. They knew each other well enough to know they were both well aware of that. “All right, fine,” Sam said finally. Then his tone was so dry, it was only because Dean knew him so well and saw the tiny twinkle in his eye that he knew it was a joke. “But if you never hear Barry White again, don’t come crying to me.”

 

They were at the tux shop, getting fitted for tuxes. Sam and Virginia had kind of taken over the wedding planning since Cas and Dean sucked so much at it. They’d decided it would be a formal affair. When Dean complained, Sam said, “A human doesn’t marry an angel every day. In fact, it’s never happened before in the history of time. It might just be remembered for eternity, so let’s do it right,” and Dean couldn’t argue with that.

Jo was there, too, as were Sam and Virginia, and Jo was already delighting in giving Dean trouble, asking him his various wedding plans and snorting at the answers. She was driving him crazy, trying on tuxes was driving him crazy; he was distracted and irritable. When they first arrived, Dean ordered Cas to sit in one of the waiting chairs while Dean tried on tuxes. “And don’t disappear,” he told him gruffly. No one but Dean could see his wings, but the shop’s employees would definitely notice if he suddenly vanished. “You just sit there until I tell you otherwise; got it?”

Cas nodded submissively. “Yes, Dean.” He settled in where he was and stared, unmoving, after his fashion, his eyes only occasionally straying to the rest of them joking around and looking at clothes. 

When Dean returned to the rest of the group to start the laborious process of trying on tuxes, he found Jo glaring at him. “What?”

“He’s not your pet,” she spat. “Do you always order him around like this?”

Dean was bewildered. “Well ... yeah.”

She tsked, disgusted. “I always knew there was a reason I never gave in to your come-ons. I should have pegged you for a domineering creep.”

“Hey! I’m not--first of all, I would never treat a woman like that!” 

She scoffed. “Like treating Cas like that is so much better?”

“Yes, it is!” he protested. This conversation was really annoying, but in a funny way, it made him feel better. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one looking out for Cas. “I only do it because--I do it because it makes him more comfortable! He’s an angel; he’s been taking orders for eons. He doesn’t know how to live like a human. We walk in here, he’s not gonna know what to do. He needs someone to tell him. He’s not that good at putting on or taking off clothes, either,” Dean muttered. 

Jo’s eyes flared. “Just because he’s an angel doesn’t mean he isn’t a person. He has a right to do whatever he wants.”

“He does what he wants! Trust me, if there’s something he feels like doing, he’s gonna do it. Just the other night, he ripped my favorite shirt to rags, and he didn’t stop there!” 

This did make Jo giggle, but she was still mad. “You didn’t even say it nice! ‘Sit down here, and don’t you dare move until I tell you to.’ Are you sure he even wants to get married, or is that something you ordered him to do, too?”

Dean jumped back, very upset, because ... well, because it was too close to the truth. He was furious. “Don’t talk about shit you don’t know anything about, Jo. I’m serious. Just shut your mouth. You don’t know anything about our relationship and you never will, so keep out of it.”

“I never will because you tell him what he can and can’t say and who he can and can’t talk to.” She looked utterly disgusted.

“It’s not like that! I mean, Sam, right? Virginia?” He turned to them, but they just looked uncomfortable and wouldn’t meet his eyes. Dean couldn’t believe it. “What? You guys, too?? But you get that I ....”

They just didn’t get it. Dean had figured that after a couple of years of practice, Cas would start picking up on how to act like a human, but Dean was beginning to realize Cas’s uncertainty and social awkwardness was something that would probably never go away. He’d been human for such a tiny fraction of all the time he’d existed. Even fifty more years would be a tiny fraction of it. Still, no matter how much practice he had, underneath it all, he was still an angel, and that brought with it a perspective no amount of time on Earth could probably ever change. The smallest things were overwhelmingly confusing and anxiety-producing for Cas. 

Just the other night, they’d had a movie night with Jo and Ellen and Bobby and Rufus. As everyone piled into the livingroom and onto the couches, Cas had stood in the doorway, watching with increasing anxiety, trying to figure out where he should sit. Dean knew him well enough by now to know his thought process: He’d be calculating the amount of room between two people on the couch, wondering whether he could fit and if those two people would find the close proximity to him undesirable. Jo came in and demanded that Dean and Rufus move their asses aside so she could squeeze in between them. At one time or another, Cas had tried everything he observed, but whether he flumped down like Jo, forcing the people around him to move over, or he demanded that they move their asses for him, or he complained loudly (like Jo, but also like Dean) that there was no place for him to sit, he did it all in his stilted, awkward way, and it always fell flat, sometimes mortifyingly so. Sometimes everyone couldn’t help laughing at him. It was worse when it was so awkward that they couldn’t even laugh, and a painful silence stretched out for long minutes. Dean tried never to let him know he’d embarrassed himself, but there was no way to control whether he might figure it out, so instead, Dean tried to make sure it never happened in the first place. Now he made people move himself and told Cas where to sit. Cas just didn’t need to be wasting space in his big, beautiful brain worrying about crap like that. Dean knew he was relieved whenever Dean took care of it for him. 

Anyway, Cas could travel the universe sitting still like he was now. Maybe he looked bored to Jo, but Dean knew angels didn’t get bored. He was fine ... except that when Dean looked over at him, he saw Cas observing this conversation, anxiety plain on his face, surely wondering whether it would be appropriate for him to say something, afraid it would just make it worse, wondering whether he’d done something to make this conversation happen in the first place. “Damnit, Jo, look at ’im! He’s upset! Now could you just shut up about it?”

“I’m gonna arrange his bachelor party that you aren’t invited to, and I’m gonna have a nice, long talk with him like any good best man about whether he’s really sure he wants to hitch himself to the ol’ ball and chain,” Jo announced, “so don’t be surprised if you get left at the altar, jackass.” She turned back to the rack and asked Virginia whether she should wear a dress or a tux. Dean looked at Cas, who now averted his eyes, probably afraid he shouldn’t be overtly eavesdropping, even more awkward and uncertain than when they came in here, and Dean just didn’t know how to make it better.

 

When Dean came out of the bathroom that night, it was merciful to see Cas back in his regular sleep clothes. Relieved, he hurried to climb into bed next to Cas, who set down his book (Austen), and then stared straight ahead. The only sure way to get Cas in the mood for sex, for whatever reason, was to stroke his wings, which were uncommonly accessible right now, since he was still sitting up. Still, it made Dean feel like a cad to go straight for the wings without even any conversation first, or at least a little flirtation. He was just coming up with a good line when Cas said, “Dean, I would ... like to have a conversation with you ... on a particular subject.”

This was new. “Sure,” said Dean, confused. “Shoot.”

“But first ....” He handed Dean a folded-up piece of cloth. Dean took it and unfolded it. It was his shirt, good as new! 

“You fixed it!” Dean cried. He must have magicked it back together. “Aw, man, you’re the best boyfriend ever!”

“I didn’t realize until you said so to Jo how ... dismayed you were when I damaged it. I apologize.”

“No worries,” Dean said, kissing him on the cheek. He then immediately ditched the shirt he was wearing and put his old favorite back on, grinning. He admired it for a bit, its faded color and frayed comfort. You really couldn’t tell anything had ever happened to it. “So, what was the thing you wanted to talk about?”

Cas’s speech patterns were awkward in general--not because he was ever at a loss for words; rather the opposite: he spoke as if the words he was saying were being recited, as if they had been written down and memorized long ago. His mind was vast, possessing knowledge of countless languages, cultures, and periods of history, so to compose a perfect sentence in English before uttering it was probably effortless for him. So it was odd to hear him fumble now. “I ... I overheard ... that is, er, ‘eavesdropped’ is probably the better word ... on a conversation--your conversation--” his eyes flickered oh-so-briefly to Dean’s, “... with ... Sam.”

Dean slumped. Crap. “Okay,” he said grimly. Freakin’ Sam! So maybe Dean had instigated that conversation, but still, the consequences of his meddling just didn’t end.

“... And I agree with Sam that if there’s something that makes you ... sad about our relationship, we should be able to work it out.”

Dean was silently cursing up a storm. This had to be the preamble to more heartrending guilt and self-doubt on Cas’s part, that he wasn’t good enough for Dean, that he wasn’t an appropriate match for Dean because he was an angel, and the list went on and on. Away from the host, Cas suffered from profound insecurity when triggered, because when the gates to heaven closed, the solid foundation on which he’d rested his entire existence had been taken away from him. Ten lies popped first into Dean’s head, but he knew from experience that lies would get him nowhere with his mindreading boyfriend. It was only a question of which truth he chose to speak and how he said it that would determine how this conversation would go and how Cas’s self-esteem would fare through it. Freakin’ Sam! “Okay,” Dean said. “Okay. Well, if you were listening, then you heard me tell him you just can’t comprehend it, and that’s how it is. You’re an angel, you don’t get sex, and that’s cool with me, baby, it really is.” He turned to look earnestly at Cas, praying the angel would see the truth of this in his eyes. 

He seemed to, peering into Dean’s eyes with his heartbreakingly vulnerable ones, then looking down. Dean had a brief hope that would be all it took, but alas, his hope was in vain. “But Dean,” Cas said. Every now and then, his voice took on an uncharacteristically human quality, as it did now. Dean tried not to think it was pain and hopelessness and insecurity that brought it on. Those were the aspects of being human Dean would do anything to shield him from, but they seemed to happen anyway, and it tore Dean up whenever they did. “Sadness lingers in you whenever you think of it. It isn’t just okay.” Dean tried to protest, but Cas interrupted him. “Please tell me, Dean, why it still makes you sad. I would like--I--I need to know.”

Dean sighed. “It’s just me being selfish, Cas.”

“No. If it lingers like that, it is a real thing, like a thorn that needs to be removed. I will remove it if I can. Tell me.”

Dean thought about it a little while. “I guess what bothers me about it isn’t whether you initiate, it’s that ... you never want to. I mean, we have a good time, right?” He looked at Cas searchingly, then seeing the anxiety on his face and not wanting to add to it with whatever Cas might see in his eyes, he looked away again quickly. “Just, we’ve done it enough, and you enjoy it enough when we do, that ... I’da thought ... you’d want it yourself, sometimes.”

Dean dared glance at Cas’s face, afraid to see him crushed, but it wasn’t as bad as he feared. Cas was merely looking thoughtful, as if he too was searching inside himself to see why it was so. At last he said carefully, “Yes. That makes sense. If you like, I can remind myself to ask you for it sometimes. Every other day, perhaps.”

Dean looked away, trying to quell the great disappointment that poured through him. “No, that wouldn’t help,” he said brusquely.

“Why not?” Cas asked softly. He still just didn’t understand.

“Because--why, Cas? If you like it, why don’t you want to do it sometimes? I don’t mean just because I want to do it, I mean you, on your own, of your own free will, deciding that’s something you feel like doing. I mean, is it just not that good with me?”

“It is most enjoyable. It’s ... Dean, I’m an angel.” Here they went again. This was what he always said. “Angels have no sexuality. It wouldn’t occur to one of us--”

“Really, no sexuality whatsoever?” Dean interrupted. 

“Of course not. Angels have no need to procreate; our father created us.”

“There’s no touching, no love, no affection--”

“No. Well ....”

Cas had never mentioned anything like this before. “What?”

“Two angels ... if there is great love between them ... sometimes they will touch.”

“Yeah?” Dean said eagerly. “Touch how?”

“In our original forms, we are energy. We can merge our energy a little, share our experiences, come to know the other’s essence. For a brief time, it is as if we become one.”

This made Dean hopeful. “Ooh. That sounds kinda hot.”

“The pleasure it brings is beyond compare.”

Dean was definitely excited about this possibility. “Cool! Well, maybe you and I could just do it ... you know, in the angel way then sometimes.”

Cas’s wings drooped. “It is not possible,” he said regretfully. “The only comparable energy in you would of course be your soul, and for me to touch it would cause you agony.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I would have to reach through your skin and muscle and organs to touch it, displacing your cells with my own. In order for it not to hurt you, you would have to possess a depth of trust and surrender such as virtually no human has ever been capable of. A few mystics, over the centuries, have managed it with a minimum of pain. Some even experienced religious ecstasy ....”

“Oh.” If it took some kind of saint to do it, obviously Dean would have to count himself out. “So then does that have to do with why it turns you on so much for me to touch your wings?”

Cas smiled a little. “Exactly. My wings are the only part of my essence that extends beyond the surface of my vessel.”

“But--but does that mean at least that you experience a similar kind of pleasure when I touch your wings as when you ... merge with other angels?”

Cas looked like this had never crossed his mind before, and he seemed excited when it did. “Now that you mention it, yes; I suppose so.”

“So basically it’s like angel sex.”

Cas, ever hung up on being perfectly accurate, was obviously reluctant to let this slide by, since no procreation was involved, but he finally managed to make himself nod. “To a certain degree.”

“It’s like angel sex with birth control--no procreation, just pleasure,” Dean said, getting cocky. He’d been successfully having angel sex with Cas all this time without even realizing it!

“Well ... yes.” If Cas didn’t even argue, he must be on the money!

“Awesome.” He grinned, thinking of it. It was hot in its own way. “Wait--so, if that’s how angels do it, and if they really like it, I mean ... how come you don’t ask me for that? You know I’ll touch your wings any time you want me to.”

“Well--especially when it’s not a sort of pleasure you are able to experience ... it seemed rather selfish and carnal to come right out and ask you to give me pleasure in that way.”

Dean grinned and melted at his phrasing. He scooted closer to Cas and put an arm around his waist. “You’d feel like a cad, huh? Trust me, I’d never mind. I’d like it. I wish you would. Any time you feel it. Now maybe?” Dean let his hand slide up Cas’s back toward his wings. He saw the barest quirk of a smile on Cas’s lips, and let his hand rest on one of his wings near where it emerged from his back.

Cas abruptly flicked his wing away from Dean’s hand. “Dean, before we ... before I ... find it difficult to converse, I want to ask ... is it sufficient for you, our lovemaking, even though I have no real understanding of ... human sex?”

“More than sufficient,” Dean murmured, rubbing his lips up Cas’s stubbly cheek. 

“Sufficient enough to ... forsake all others?”

Dean smirked a little, looking in Cas’s eyes. “You’re not worried about that, are you?”

“I am only worried about whether your needs are being met. Dean, am I ... am I ... good enough for you?”

Dean grunted, unable to stop himself anymore, and pushed Cas down on the bed with his whole body, to which Cas submitted without a second thought, as usual. Dean kissed him repeatedly. “So much more than good enough,” he groaned.

“And the human sex? Is it good enough?”

“So, so good,” Dean whispered, running his lips from Cas’s temple to his jaw. Seeing Cas’s expression become relatively content at these words, Dean flipped him over onto his stomach so he could access his wings, as well as other important things. He hesitated there, because seeing Cas’s easy, habitual submission brought Jo’s complaints forcefully back into his consciousness. Cas just lay there beneath him, waiting, expressionless. It was one thing to order him around in public, but Dean was beginning to realize that over the months they’d slipped into a similar pattern in bed, as well. “And ... for you? Is it ... good?”

“Yes,” he said in that emotionless, unreadable way he often spoke.

“Cas, does it bother you, what Jo said, that I tell you what to do?”

Cas rolled back very slightly, just enough to see Dean’s face. “It is as you told her,” he said. “You do it to make me feel more comfortable.”

“And does it?”

“Of course.” Cas sounded confused. “Or you would not do it.”

“And ... and in bed? I guess I kind of ... treat your body like it ... belongs to me.”

Cas looked a bit wistful. “My body does not even belong to me. It makes me happy to think that my body belongs to you. You are welcome to do with it as you please.”

Dean couldn’t help the grunt Cas’s saying this brought out of him. It was good to hear Cas liked it, because boy did Dean ever do with it as he pleased. “But do you like it?” Dean persisted. He’d been sure all this time that Cas liked the way things were between them, but Jo had really made him wonder.

Cas seemed the more confused at the question. “Can you possibly doubt it?”

Dean slowly stroked a hand down Cas’s back, thinking hard about this. “And ... and you wouldn’t have it any different? I mean, since we can’t have sex the angel way, I guess we’re stuck with the human way, pretty much. Is that okay with you?”

“It makes me very happy,” Cas said simply, surrendering to Dean’s touch, rolling back onto his stomach. Dean stroked his back some more, then touched a wing and smiled to hear Cas’s groan of pleasure. Cas stretched out his wings in a way Dean had finally realized was a sort of temptation, a seduction. He aligned them on either side of Dean so that Dean could have the best access to them, which Dean took full advantage of now, grinning to feel Cas begin to writhe beneath him. Freakin’ Jo ... and Sam and Virginia. They just didn’t get it. And how could they, really? They couldn’t possibly know what it was like to have a relationship with an angel, all the tiny details of it that were different from a relationship with another human. If Cas ever didn’t like something Dean was doing, he could just disappear--or fling him off with the power of his mind, or make him unable to move, or any of a thousand other angel tricks he had up his sleeve. He was infinitely more powerful than Dean. This kind of surrender Cas gave to him now ... it had nothing to do with any power Dean might have over him, and everything to do with how absolutely he trusted Dean. So nobody else could understand that. He and Cas knew it, and that was all that mattered.

 

So Dean didn’t even mind when Jo picked Cas up for his bachelor party. Dean’s only regret was that he wasn’t invited. Even Sam and Virginia were going. “Sorry,” Sam said, making that sympathetic face as he clapped Dean’s shoulder.

“Take pictures! Video would be even better,” Dean told him.

“I will,” Sam promised. Dean didn’t know where they were going, but the sight of Cas at a bachelor party was sure to be priceless.

“And tell me all about it as soon as you get back.”

Sam and Virginia waved, and they were off. Dean kicked around the house all evening, lonely and bored without Cas and the rest of their friends, who were all at the party. It brought home to Dean how very different his life was now than it used to be. Three years ago, he and Sam would have been checking into a hotel, grabbing some fast food, and discussing whatever they knew about a case. Dean would have been on his own a lot of the time whenever he and Sam split up to work different aspects of the case, and the rest of his time would have been spent exclusively with Sam. They didn’t have any friends. Loneliness was a way of life to him. Dean would probably have slept on top of the covers, paranoid, a gun under his pillow, demon-killing knife also close to hand. Never in his life up to that point had he even been aware that life could be peaceful and easy. He just didn’t know, because his and Sam’s life never had been. He’d never not been wary of pretty much every person he met, every situation he walked into, every deal he made. He didn’t know it could be movie nights with friends and home-cooked meals every night and sleeping in your own bed with your lover, dropping into a peaceful, happy sleep with your arms around each other. He and Sam and their hunter buddies had averted the apocalypse by closing the gates to heaven, hell, and purgatory, and Dean hadn’t regretted it once ... except for the fact that one angel chose to stay on Earth when the gate closed ... who happened to be the same angel who had rescued Dean from hell. They met almost by accident. Cas refused to be troubled by the fact that Dean had made it so he could never return home, and now that Cas was figuring out how to be human, it seemed like he would survive being away from the host just fine. It was, obviously, purely beneficial to Dean that Cas was on this side of the gate. So closing those gates had simply made it so that life could be good enough that it could actually be boring sometimes. Once upon a time, Dean had always had a job to do. Now his only job was to figure out how to live like a regular guy. He’d been watching his other hunter buddies slowly figure out the same thing these past few years, and it was a thing of beauty. So Dean enjoyed this little miracle that he could feel bored, and awaited their return, trying not to think about Jo’s threat that she would try to talk Cas out of marrying Dean when Cas was already wavering.

He greeted them on the porch as soon as he heard the Impala’s door shut, and searched Cas’s face anxiously, which didn’t look any different from usual. “Convince my boyfriend I’m the antichrist yet?” Dean asked Jo, and Dean was relieved to see she looked annoyed enough by the question that she must have failed at her objective, or at least must have been given enough food for thought to give her pause.

She’d thought of at least one thing she thought would annoy him. “Cas really loves lap dances,” she returned smugly.

Dean shrugged. “Who doesn’t?” He turned to Cas. “How many lap dances did you get?”

“Three,” said Cas, looking a bit exhausted by the memory. Dean grinned.

“Yeah, I can tell how much he loves them,” Dean teased her. “Hey, it’s your money.”

“Bite me,” she snapped, and she didn’t have time to come up with anything better before Ellen called to her with that edge in her voice, clearly ready to head home, and Jo had to go.

“Thanks for showing my boyfriend a good time!” Dean called after her, and was rewarded with a middle finger over her shoulder. Dean chuckled and shut the door, turning to Sam. “Video?” he mouthed. 

Sam nodded and mouthed back, “Lots.” 

Dean gave him a thumbs-up, and took the obviously worn-out Cas to bed. “So, you like lap dances, huh?” Dean said, getting Cas undressed for bed. When he was this out of sorts, it could take him five minutes to remove a single item of clothing.

“I enjoyed one of them.”

“Yeah?” Dean said, charmed by the thought. “What made it so good?”

“I happened to witness the birth of the woman dancing, since angels are present at every human birth. I was stationed in the area and attended hers. I enjoyed seeing her again.”

“Aw,” Dean breathed, holding Cas’s face between his hands for a moment. “Well, ain’t you just the sweetest little customer a stripper ever had? What were the other highlights?”

“Sam seemed highly amused most of the night.”

I’ll just bet he did, thought Dean, thinking happily of the video he would be watching soon. He couldn’t help sobering then, thinking of what he’d been subconsciously fretting about all night. “And ... what did Jo have to say? She had a talk with you, right?”

“Yes.”

“Told you not to marry me, didn’t she?”

“She simply wanted to make certain I was marrying you of my own free will, and I assured her that I am.”

Dean couldn’t help feeling a pang, thinking of all the nights he’d badgered Cas to do it until he finally relented, Dean suspected just to make him happy. “Are you?” he asked him suddenly, looking intently into Cas’s eyes the way Cas so often looked into his. “Baby, do you really want to do this? We’re only about a week away from the big day, so if you want to back out, now’s the time. Seriously, if you don’t want to, just say the word and we’ll call it off, no questions asked. If you don’t ... you know, want to make it permanent with me--” it was hard to get the words out, but he had to, “--that’s cool; I understand. I’ll take whatever I can get when it comes to you. You know that, right?”

A sadness came over Cas’s features, gazing into Dean’s eyes, as if he saw more there than Dean was saying. “Dean,” said Cas, “you and I are already joined and always will be. We have been since I remade you the moment we met. Marriage cannot affect that.”

“I know, just ....”

“Marriage means something to humans in general, and to you in particular, that you crave to possess for yourself, and I am more than willing to give it. I will never want another man. You have me, marriage or not. You know this?”

Dean smiled at his words, but could not help noticing that he still hadn’t said he wanted to marry Dean for his own reasons. “I’m really happy to hear that, and ... you know, that means it doesn’t really matter if we get married or not, right? So if you don’t want to, that’s cool.”

“I want to.”

“I thought you were scared to.”

“Now that we’ve changed our vows and I understand better what marriage really means, I no longer believe it will be an affront to the lord. I believe that, to the contrary, it is a way to honor him.”

Dean relaxed with a grin. “Good,” he breathed with relief. “We’ve already done sex before marriage, lust, sodomy, and broken all the other rules of sex, right? I mean, I thought marriage was gonna be the one right thing we did.”

“As I said, we have been long married in our hearts, so there is no sin.”

“Man, marriage is awesome! All this stuff I thought was supposed to be bad is suddenly okay once you get married.” Cas’s expression quirked, like he disagreed with this statement, but Dean didn’t let him get hung up on it. “Anyway, we should get lots of gifts, only it’ll all be lame crap like toaster ovens and waffle irons that we’ll just end up giving away.”

“We will only be getting one gift.”

This threw Dean for a loop. “Huh? What gift?”

“I am not telling.” Cas got a strange smile on his face. “I made a wedding plan of my own, with the help of Sam, Virginia, and Jo, and you are not to know of it.”

Dean didn’t know what to make of this, but he was pleased; one less thing he had to do himself, and he liked surprises. “Cool, can’t wait.”

 

Sam threw Dean his bachelor party. Dean wanted to invite Cas, but everyone said that would defeat the purpose, so Dean left him innocently puttering around his garden and went to see what Sam had planned for him. He raised an eyebrow at Sam as they walked into the strip club. “But you hate strip clubs,” he said to Sam.

Sam shrugged. “It isn’t my bachelor party; it’s yours. I figure this’ll be your last chance to see boobs.”

Dean grinned, figuring he’d be stoked. He looked around the joint. It was the best strip club in town, and all the strippers were hot--even that kind of old lady. He knew Sam and the few hunter buddies who’d joined them would fork out for any number of lap dances for Dean, but no matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t find a stripper he could get excited about. “All right, well, let’s get a table,” Dean said. He got them a big one up front, but he couldn’t seem to get into it. Rufus and Frank were enjoying themselves, but Garth and Ash were just talking shop, as Sam politely nodded at the strippers who flirted with him, sipping his drink, barely watching. Bobby wouldn’t even come, feeling like it would be an insult to the memory of his wife. 

Dean got out his phone and texted Cas: “How you doing?”

Cas texted back a minute or two later: “I have berries.”

Dean cracked up and showed it to Sam, who smiled but seemed bored out of his gourd. Cas texted a photo of his berry bush on his little plot of land, and suddenly Dean, who hated gardening, was absolutely desperate to be there with him, helping him water or weed or whatever he asked. He looked around their table. This didn’t count as a party. Barely anyone was even having any fun, least of all Dean.

Sam seemed to notice. “Lapdance?” he said.

“Are you offering?” Dean retorted, eliciting a bit of laughter from their friends. How come Cas got the awesome turnout for his bachelor party and Dean got this sorry gaggle of dudes--at the same strip club, no less? Dean craned his neck, looking for the exit. “This is lame. Let’s go do something ... better.”

Sam seemed bewildered. “What would be ‘better’? A brothel?”

“No! Let’s do something cool, like ... can’t we just go out to a nice dinner or something? Ellen and Jo and everybody would come to that, wouldn’t they?”

Sam stared at him, then pulled at Dean’s ear. Dean batted his hand away. “Are you actually my brother?” demanded Sam. “You’re a shifter, aren’t you?”

“Get out the silver!” Frank crowed.

“No!” Dean said irritably. “What’s the big deal? Can’t we go someplace nice?” 

Everyone was staring at him like he’d grown horns. Dean definitely heard one of the other guys mutter something about if Dean could actually be growing up, and Dean scowled. Sam was the first to stir himself and say uncertainly, “Sure, Dean. Whatever you want.”

“Okay then. Now text all our other friends and let’s get the hell outta here.”

Sure enough, they had a nice dinner with their other friends at the best restaurant in town, but Dean was happiest once he was back home in bed with Cas, who asked if he’d had a nice time. “It was okay,” Dean said. “Wish you were there, though.”

“Did you receive many lapdances?”

“Not even one. If you’d been there, though ....” He leered at him, and Cas gave his strange, awkward giggle, which was just about the cutest thing ever. “Tell me about these berries.”

Cas waxed on about his garden for a while as Dean listened, full of joy and contentment. Jo and Ellen had both remarked that Dean must actually be ready to get married if he didn’t even want a lapdance. Dean kind of thought maybe they were right. 

 

Dean stood around in some room at the church with Sam. Churches didn’t have great associations for either of them, but Virginia and Sam discovered almost by accident that getting married in a real church would be very meaningful to Cas, so that’s how it was going to be. Dean peered out the window and saw Bobby getting out of one of his old beaters with some other hunters, all wearing suits they must have bought in the ’70’s. Dean snickered. “Come look at this.”

Sam came over and looked out the window with him, chuckling. “How can some of those guys even fit in those suits anymore?”

“I notice most of them aren’t buttoned.”

Once that slight amusement was over, Dean impatiently checked his phone again for the time. Only three minutes had passed since the last time he looked! How was this even possible?! Dean growled.

“What?” said Sam.

“Is there some kind of time-slowing demon around or something?! God, I barely made it through this last week, it felt so long, and this morning already feels twice as long as that!”

Sam smiled. He almost looked ... what was that look? Charmed? Nah, that couldn’t be it. “That eager to get married? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Dean paced for a few seconds, then whirled on Sam. “Would you go check on them?”

“I just checked twenty minutes ago. They were fine.”

“Yeah, but what if Cas suddenly thinks of something he wants to be doing and disappears?! You have to tell him specifically that he has to hang around--”

“I’m sure Jo and Ellen probably did.”

“You’re ‘sure’? Sam!--”

“If he disappears, then we pray for him to come back; simple as that.”

“Still, that would be the worst, if he didn’t even stick around for his own wedding ....” Dean looked at the sky, glum at the thought.

Sam sighed, beleaguered and tolerant. “Fine, I’ll go tell him. Why are you so antsy, anyway? Or do you just want to get it over with?”

“No! I want to be married to him, that’s all! I want to put a ring on it. Now. I wish we’d eloped ....”

Sam chuckled. “It’s not like he’s going anywhere. He’s immortal.”

Dean frowned, troubled, remembering times when it was proved all too vividly that maybe he wasn’t so immortal after all. “You never know ...,” he mumbled.

Sam came over to stand right in front of him. “Cas loves you. He’s not going anywhere. I mean, the bond you guys have ....”

“I know! I don’t know what it is. Life is just so ... so fragile, you know? I don’t want to waste any more of it not married to him.”

Sam looked away, smiling slightly. Were those tears in his eyes?! “I’ll go tell him,” he said huskily, and left. Jeez, even Sam getting all choked up at his big brother’s wedding. Dean grinned at the thought. He killed some time thinking of good ways to tease Sam about this, then remembered he’d cried at Sam’s wedding--during the ceremony, no less!--and realized it wouldn’t be a good idea. He checked his phone again. Only thirty minutes to the ceremony, now. That wasn’t so bad. He could survive that. Why’d they even get to the church so early, anyway? It took all of five minutes to put on his tux, and they’d been standing around waiting ever since. 

How was Cas killing the time? Jo and Ellen were in there helping him get ready. Jo had teased Dean, saying she would put flowers in Cas’s hair or something, make him look pretty as a girl. Dean couldn’t care less. Just as long as they were in front of Pastor Jim saying their vows soon, Cas could be dressed as King Kong if they wanted. Cas looked good no matter what, anyway.

Sam returned. “He already knew. He’s not going anywhere.”

Dean didn’t realize how tense he was about that until he felt about half his anxiety abruptly flow right out of him. “Oh. Good.”

“Actually, everyone’s here. We should probably go stand by the doors into the chapel pretty soon so we’re ready when the music starts.”

“How ’bout now?” said Dean, grabbed his tie, and headed for the door. Sam stopped him and tied it for him--a fancy bow-tie Cas had taken a shine to at the tux shop. The things Dean did for his angel .... Dean did a quick spin when it was tied, holding his arms up a little. “Do I look okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam said that husky way again, looking away, and Dean couldn’t help but snicker. Sam gave him the finger. Dean laughed, then Sam laughed. It almost became a chick-flick moment right that second, but Sam restrained himself and they just headed for the doors.

Cas and Jo weren’t there yet. Dean peeked through the doors to see all their buddies in monkey suits, now thrilled that Sam had forced them to dress up, because it was hysterical. Rufus’s suit was some kind of maroon paisley velvet number, and there was Gwen Campbell, wearing a dress and looking profoundly uncomfortable in it. This was awesome!

“So I guess when Cas gets here, we’re allowed to see each other then?” Dean asked Sam. He’d thought the whole not-seeing-each-other-before-the-wedding thing was lame, but Cas was into all the traditions, so Dean had slept on the pull-out the night before so they wouldn’t see each other the day of the wedding until it was time.

“Well, yeah. I mean, the ceremony’s starting soon. Since you’re walking down the aisle together and no one’s giving anyone away, I guess you can see each other now.”

As if summoned by Sam’s words, Cas, Jo and Ellen came around the corner right then. It suddenly occurred to Dean that if Jo really had done Cas up in flowers, their friends might laugh at him and that wouldn’t do, so he was relieved to see Cas looking very spiffy and groom-like in his own tux, no flowers. Okay, as they got closer, he saw that Cas looked more than spiffy. Actually, Cas looked incredibly hot. As he arrived, Dean looked him up and down. “Dayum.”

Jo looked pleased with herself. “He has great hair, he just doesn’t know what to do with it.”

“She attempted to teach me,” Cas informed Dean.

Dean was so happy to see him again, he just stared stupidly at him for half a minute, grinning, as Jo and Sam discussed important wedding matters. Of course Cas was too awesome to think that was weird, so he simply stood there calmly, looking around with pleasure at the church’s décor. “Ah,” he said suddenly, his expression changing to one of wistful longing, going to a little angel sculpture. “This reminds me of my brother Inias. I wish he could be here.”

Dean hung his head. Cas had family, too, but none of them could be at his wedding, thanks to ... well, everyone present. He watched as Cas looked carefully over the little sculpture, then returned to Dean’s side. A contented smile had replaced the wistful look, but he saw Dean’s expression, and touched Dean’s face. “I’ve told you: don’t feel guilt about this. Were my brothers and sisters able to be here, I would not be. I would not be alive, and I could not get married. I am not sad; I don’t want you to be.” Dean smiled, and took the hand that touched his cheek.

Dean was becoming aware that Sam and Jo had stopped talking and Jo seemed to be watching them, so in order to change the subject, and so that he and Cas weren’t just gazing at each other like lovesick puppies anymore, Dean kicked around a little and finally said, “So, you ready for this?”

There came Cas’s ever serious tone: “Yes.”

“Nervous?”

Cas glanced through the crack between the doors leading into the chapel, looking baffled by the question. “Why would I be? It’s a simple enough task.”

Dean smiled. “Humans get nervous. Some of ’em.” 

“You’re nervous?” Cas seemed surprised.

“Well, no, not me! But, like ....” Dean’s eyes wandered toward Sam, then he thought better of pursuing that topic. “Most people are.”

“But why?”

“I dunno. I really don’t, ’cos I can’t wait. But I guess they aren’t a hundred percent sure they want to be married, or they’re scared of crowds or something.”

“But those are our friends.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah.”

“Lots of people have to invite family members they hardly even know, or all their parents’ friends or something,” Jo offered. “And the ceremony is super fancy and they’re scared of screwing it up.”

“Not hunters,” said Dean, and they all chortled at the idea of anyone in the building ever doing something for show.

Jo and Sam went back to talking. Dean checked his phone again. “Are you slowing down time?” Dean demanded.

“No,” said Cas. “It is flowing at the normal rate.”

“Sure doesn’t feel like it,” Dean muttered. He checked his pocket again for the ring. Sam had offered to hold it, but since Dean had kind of lost the ring at Sam’s wedding, Dean thought it would be best to hold onto it himself, lest Sam “accidentally” lose his in retaliation. Even if it was just a prank, Dean couldn’t stand the idea of anything delaying the moment when Pastor Jim finally declared them husband and ... whatever. Dean’s impatience was reaching critical levels. He needed a distraction. He turned abruptly to Cas. “Wanna practice kissing?”

Cas looked pleased by the idea. “Okay.”

They practiced kissing. Jo tittered, Sam cleared his throat, and they politely turned their backs to give them some privacy. “Are they always like this?” Dean heard Jo ask, and Sam responded, “Pretty much, yeah.” Jo said something else to Sam, quieter, but it didn’t seem critical. Maybe she had finally gotten over thinking Dean was treating Cas badly. 

Dean was trying to give Cas pointers, but they only seemed to make his kissing more stilted and deliberate. Dean got so fixated on what they were doing that he didn’t even notice when the music started. “Okay,” Sam said in Dean’s ear, sounding almost as excited as Dean was. “It’s time.”

“FINALLY!” Dean exclaimed. He heard some laughter from their gathered friends on the opposite side of the door. Oops.

Sam and Jo headed slowly down the aisle, arm in arm. All their friends turned to watch. Dean took Cas’s arm in his, then turned to grin at him. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for this all my life.”

“In some way, I do, too,” said Cas.

They started following Sam and Jo up the aisle. Soon they were right on their heels. “Get movin’!” Dean hissed to them.

“You’re doing it wrong!” Jo hissed back. “You’re supposed to go slow!”

“I don’t care! This is my wedding; we do it my way.”

Jo refused to go faster, so Dean finally pushed past her to the front of the room to stand before Pastor Jim, who was smirking in a not-very-professional way. The crowd of gathered friends was also laughing. Dean gripped Cas’s hand and said to Pastor Jim, “Come on; let’s get this show on the road.”

Pastor Jim smiled, waited politely for Sam and Jo to join them, then began to talk.

Dean had expected some amount of talking during the ceremony. He wasn’t sure what it was all about; he hadn’t listened at Sam’s ceremony, and it was hard to pay attention now. It was a very pretty speech, all about angels and humans and the long journey all those gathered had taken to arrive at this moment. Cas seemed to be enjoying it. Dean couldn’t really get into it. He started looking around the room to amuse himself. He looked at Sam, who looked back at him. Somehow, in his eyes, Dean could feel their whole past: all those days hunting together, having each other’s back, facing life and death together. Their childhood with Dad, growing up, learning to be hunters, first meeting all these people who now sat in this room, watching. Sam looked wistful and happy and proud and serious and ... everything. Sam’s eyes got just a little bit wet, and Dean looked away quickly so he didn’t follow suit. He looked instead at Jo, figuring that would be a safe bet. Instead, she was grinning and her eyes were so full of tears, Dean didn’t know how she was keeping them in there. She laughed, the tears fell, and she dashed them away, kind of embarrassed, but not really. Jo, not embarrassed to cry? What the hell?? She looked happy and proud, too, so happy for him, he couldn’t help smiling back at her, but he looked away from her quickly, too, because he was getting choked up.

Cas was definitely the safest bet. He looked at Cas, who stared up at Pastor Jim respectfully. Sensing Dean’s eyes on him, Cas turned to look at him with his ever steady calm. “You’re crying,” Cas murmured.

“Crap,” said Dean, wiping his eyes fast. Jo gave another one of those tearful giggles, crying openly now. Dean could hear more soft sniffles in the audience behind him. “This is pathetic,” Dean complained. “We’re all gonna be dissolved in tears by the time you’re done talking, Jim. This is a great speech, really, but could you hurry it up?”

“Maybe he could finish it at the reception,” Sam suggested.

“Good idea!” Dean said briskly, while he could keep control of his voice. “Get to the man and husband part.”

“Mawwiage ...,” said someone behind them, and people started giggling.

“No!” shouted Dean. “Cut it out! This is taking forever!”

With a slightly beleaguered sigh, Pastor Jim said, “Very well. Dean, Castiel, you each prepared something to say?”

“Yeah,” said Dean, and turned quickly to Cas, who looked at him openly, as if interested to hear what he would say--and he had reason to be curious, because they hadn’t even discussed their vows once they decided they would each vow what felt right to them. Cas didn’t know what he was going to say. “Cas, man ... you’re the only one I want. I waited my whole life for you. I’m glad you’re finally here.” Dean was glad he was done, because Jo’s tears were getting to him, and he couldn’t have gone on.

Understanding he was done speaking, Cas nodded and said, “Humans have a phrase, ‘blessing in disguise.’ Humans understand that sometimes, something that appears to be a blessing is a curse, and something that appears to be a curse is a blessing. Angels have no comprehension of this, except ... except me, now. I am glad I found you in hell, Dean. I am glad I healed you there, glad I remained on Earth when the gates to heaven closed, glad I needed your help to survive here, because otherwise, I wouldn’t be here with you now, and I’m glad I’m here with you now. I feel ... alive. I feel as if there is a purpose to my life. I feel happy. No angel has ever felt these things before now. I am humbled and awed to be the one to learn what these things mean. It feels ... momentous, somehow, as if in marrying, we are altering heaven and Earth. I am honored to marry you, Dean.”

Oh, God, now even Cas’s eyes were getting wet, and that never happened! Dean just nodded, unable to speak, paying no attention to the audience, who seemed quite moved, nor to Sam nor Jo nor even Pastor Jim, who was talking again; Dean just looked at Cas, because that was all he wanted to do.

Dean became aware Pastor Jim was saying the important stuff, about having and holding and loving and cherishing and sickness and health, leaving off the part about “as long as we both shall live.” Dean said, “I do,” then Cas said, “I do,” they put the rings on each other’s fingers, then Pastor Jim finally, FINALLY said, “You may now kiss the groom.”

Without even thinking about it, Dean gave Cas a peck on the lips so quick he didn’t even have time to react, then threw his arms around him. “We did it, Cas!” He heard Cas’s weird giggle. “Awesome! We’re finally married! Now let’s go get some grub; I’m starving! I’m gonna have a foot-long hot dog covered with chili and sauerkraut, and the biggest freakin’ pile of baked beans you ever saw--”

Dean dragged him back down the aisle as their friends rose to their feet, clapping and wiping their eyes. Dean got out of the church, saw the Impala he and Sam had come in, knew he’d surely have to wait for Sam and Jo, who were slowly making their way down the aisle, too, talking to everybody, and he couldn’t stand it. 

“Hey, Sam!” he shouted. Sam looked over. He tossed Sam the keys. “Meet you there!” Sam nodded quizzically, and Dean turned to Cas. “Let’s go your way,” he said breathlessly. Cas put his fingers to his forehead, and they were gone.

 

Cas wasn’t kidding when he said they’d only be getting one gift. Bobby was the fifth person to hand Dean an envelope full of money at the reception. Bobby was clearly not enjoying parting with it, either. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he said gruffly, then rethought that. “... Unless it’s a really good place.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said, taking the envelope, baffled, and stuck it inside his jacket, as most of the gift-givers had advised him to do. He glanced again at Cas, knowing only that it had something to do with the “wedding plan” Cas had made, which there still had been no sign of. Cas was a terrible liar, but he also didn’t dwell on things like humans did. He’d made his plan and intended to see it through when the time came, and he just wouldn’t think about it until then, so Dean would get no clues from watching him.

The party was fun. Ash was the DJ, so the music was pretty good. There was dancing and great grub. Some health nuts were more into Cas’s garden produce than the dogs and burgers and potato salad and everything, so everyone was happy. There were more people at the reception than there had been at the wedding, because when it came to parties, Dean thought the more the merrier.

Dean sat down with Jo and Ellen, holding a plate full of food and a beer. How long had it been since he’d had a beer? He almost never drank anymore, now that he was with Cas. Well, still, a cold one was nice on a hot August afternoon.

“So, where you boys goin’ on your honeymoon?” Ellen asked.

Dean snorted. “We’re not going on a honeymoon, Ellen,” he said. “You don’t pay us enough to be able to afford one.” He sipped his beer. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back at work Monday morning.” He and Cas, and most of their hunter friends, worked at Ellen’s private security company, which made use of the only skills most of these hunters had: keeping some things alive and making other things no longer dangerous. It wasn’t like Dean loved working in an office, but he was glad she’d started her company, or most of these hunters would have been at loose ends once the gates were closed.

Ellen quirked an eyebrow. “Pretty sure you’re goin’ on a honeymoon,” she said in her dry way, “since Cas asked for the time off. Wondered why you hadn’t, but I figured you were just bein’ lazy like usual, so I put you down for the time off anyhow.” She winked.

Dean winced. Cas had planned a honeymoon without telling him? Oh, dear. This must be that surprise wedding plan he’d made. Dean shuddered at whatever Cas’s idea of a good honeymoon destination might be. Cas didn’t rate places and experiences like regular people did. For instance, he’d never seemed to have more fun than that time Sam took him to the dump. When Dean first met him, Cas had lived in a small shack with no plumbing or electricity. Dean sighed. He hadn’t anticipated the end of his wedding day involving trying to think of nice ways to convince Cas maybe they should just stay home. Then his blood went cold. Was he going to spend his wedding night at the dump? Dear God.

An old woman came up with her own plate of food and sat down between Jo and Ellen. “Joanne, this is Dean Winchester,” Ellen told her, and she looked at Dean in surprise.

“Dean Winchester!” said the old woman. “I haven’t seen you since you were four years old.”

“Is that right?” said Dean, trying to smile, but that had been a bad year for his family; he preferred not to think about it.

“Yes,” Joanne went on. “Your mother had just died.”

Sam, nearby, broke off in the middle of his conversation and started listening.

“Your dad came and stayed with us for a few weeks not long after your mom passed,” Ellen explained.

“Yes, he was just learning how to hunt,” Joanne agreed. “He had a real hunger for it, that one.”

Ellen thumbed Joanne. “My late husband’s mom. She grew up in the life, too. Your father had met Bill, who taught him some things, and, well, your dad didn’t know where to go, what to do with you boys, so y’all stayed with us for a while.”

“Couple months,” Joanne agreed.

“Think he just needed a family, you know? Especially for you and Sam, until he could get back on his feet and figure out what he was gonna do next,” said Ellen.

“Sam! That was the name of the little one. You used to cling to him like he was your lifeline,” Joanne told Dean. “I hear you’re the one who saved him and carried him from the house, and it was like ... you just never let go.”

Dean looked down and cleared his throat, tears stinging in his eyes. “Only took me about thirty years,” he said gruffly, and the people listening--an ever-growing group--chuckled quietly.

“This is Sam,” Ellen said, gesturing to him. Joanne got up to shake his hand, and got a full appreciation for his height. “Good God,” she exclaimed, and everyone laughed. “You were this big!” She held her hands a little bit apart. Sam smiled and sat down with them, as did Virginia, listening intently. She was probably quite curious about Sam’s young life. Sam didn’t remember it, Dean preferred not to talk about it, and it wasn’t like there was usually anyone around who knew anything about it. “How is John?” Joanne asked innocently.

“Oh, he’s ... he’s been gone for a few years now,” Dean told her, quelling the sudden overpowering sorrow that he couldn’t be here for his wedding.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Joanne, “but I’m not surprised. He was going to get revenge one way or another. I don’t think he planned to outlive the thing he meant to kill; I think he always figured he’d take it with him. I just worried about you boys when he died. I’m glad he waited until you were grown.”

Dean and Sam stared at the ground, not unlike when they were kids getting a dressing down from their father. They almost never met anyone who’d known their dad, or who spoke about him so frankly like this. Hunters weren’t known for mincing words, Dean supposed, even the old ones. Still, she was opening some old wounds ... wounds that maybe needed to finally heal. Maybe it was good that all this stuff was coming out.

“I remember thinking,” Joanne told Dean, “you wouldn’t make it past sixteen years old. You never said a word, just obeying your father and lugging your brother around everywhere you went. But then something would set you off and you’d throw a fit. You were so full of rage, so reckless and self-destructive. John really had his hands full with you. I thought about you from time to time over all these years ...,” she said wistfully. Dean felt Sam eyeing him surreptitiously, and Dean elbowed him roughly to make him stop. Joanne seemed to come out of her reverie. “But here you are, fully grown and married! I’m so glad you made it.”

Dean didn’t have any idea Cas was also listening until he stepped past Dean to stare into Joanne’s eyes. He stared for a long minute, then withdrew, looking a little sad. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said.

“The angel!” she exclaimed. “You listen here: I have a bone to pick with you and your kind!” She drew Cas aside and started giving him a hard time about the apocalypse. Anna was near, and she intervened, explaining how she and Cas had fought on the hunters’ side. Dean, still reeling, wasn’t in any shape to help him out, but Cas seemed all right, with Anna’s help. Everyone else wandered away and Ellen and Jo and Joanne started talking about something else, leaving Dean and Sam to sit there, still staring at the ground. They sat knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, like they always had. In the end, neither of them had to say anything; everything was already known between them. Sam finally patted Dean’s shoulder and got up to get another hot dog. 

The party went on all day into dusk. Nothing as heavy as the conversation with Joanne happened, although Dean did notice a lot of people tearing up as they gazed at him with affection. It was pretty weird. What was it? Like he was some kind of tragic case and something good had finally happened for him? Had he really been that pathetic in the eyes of the people who knew him? 

Mostly he took refuge in Cas’s presence. “So, I hear you’re planning a honeymoon,” Dean told him, sidling up to him next to the food.

Cas seemed dismayed. “Everyone was sworn to secrecy.”

“Guess Ellen didn’t get the memo.”

“When would you like to leave?”

“I dunno; when’s the flight?”

“Whenever you wish it to be.”

Dean was confused--Cas had even less money than he did--but shrugged. “Well ....” He looked around at the party, which seemed at last to be winding down. “Guess I want to say a few goodbyes, but then whenever you’re ready. It’s, uh ... we’re not going to the dump, are we?”

Cas just gave him that look he gave when he had no idea what you were talking about, and Dean took that for a good sign. He said some goodbyes. Most people he would see back at work when they returned, but Anna lived out of state, so he wanted to say goodbye to her, and to Joanne. Sam had to have his chick flick moment, getting all teary and saying how proud he was of his big brother, with one of his huge bear hugs, and Dean didn’t even mind. 

Once all the goodbyes were over, he returned to Cas, to find people gathering around to watch. “Don’t throw rice,” Dean warned. “I don’t want that crap in my hair.”

“You got your money, doncha?” called Bobby. Dean felt for it inside his jacket--all the envelopes people had given him--and nodded.

Dean turned to Cas. “We are taking my baby,right?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Cas, and put his fingers to his forehead.

 

They were on a snowy mountain peak. Dean instantly perceived they were in a place he’d never been before--probably even a country he’d never been to before. “Gah!” Dean exclaimed. “It’s freezing! Cas!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cas said. “I apologize; I didn’t think how the cold might affect a human. I only wanted you to see the fjords of Norway from up here. They’re magnificent, the first of many wonders in this world I wanted to take you to see. I forgot about the cold; we can go somewhere else. In the meantime ....” He wrapped his wings around him from behind, his body against his back, and suddenly, Dean was warm. “I apologize, Dean.”

“It’s all right,” Dean said. Now that he was warm, he was able to appreciate the view, and it was indeed spectacular. He’d never seen anything like this in his whole life. He never thought he would. It was like being on another planet. It was dark in Nebraska whence they’d come, but here, there was still an eerie, endless sunset. Dean had been to every corner of the 48 contiguous states and he felt like he’d seen it all, but here, the vista was unfamiliar, the vegetation was unfamiliar, even the quality of the sky and the clouds were unfamiliar. Dean could feel soft feathers against his cheeks, keeping them warm, and he just stared at the wonder of everything he was seeing, unable to look away. He knew that if they weren’t here, on this mountain, looking from this angle, at this time of night, it wouldn’t be as glorious. Cas had arranged this perfectly on purpose. “This ... this is awesome, Cas.”

“You like it?”

“I love it.”

They stayed there a long time, unmoving. Dean could feel Cas’s soft breath against his neck, hear it, and aside from trees creaking and wind passing through leaves with a sound different from any Dean had ever experienced before, it was the only thing he heard. “I think ... I think this is the most peaceful place I’ve ever been.”

Cas chuckled oddly. “I have far more peaceful places lined up.”

“Oh yeah? How long is this honeymoon gonna last?”

“Two weeks. I am hoping to visit all seven continents and at least a hundred forty countries in that time.”

Dean laughed. “Think I’d rather just pick five or six and really enjoy them, if that sounds all right to you.” 

He turned to face Cas to kiss him, only to stumble, unable to regain his footing. Cas caught him, confused. “Are you all right?”

Dean hadn’t realized that the one part of his body Cas’s wings weren’t covering was the bottoms of his feet. The cold had seeped through his boots and up his legs, and he could no longer feel anything below the knee. Above that was pretty iffy, too. He’d have tried to bluster his way through it, but this was only going to get worse. “Uh ... Cas, I can’t feel my legs. The mountain is cold, too, turns out.”

Cas’s expression turned from gentle bewilderment to alarm. “I’ll take you home.”

“No--no, I want to stay on our honeymoon. I just need someplace warm to hang out until the feeling comes back into them. Where, uh ... where were you thinking we would spend the night? Or did you think of that?”

“Of course I thought of it. I thought we would find a hotel. That’s what the money our friends gave you is for.” Cas looked extremely concerned. “I could go and search for one now, but ... but I can’t leave you.” This was true. Even a minute or two of exposure up here could really do a number on him. “I would bring you with me, but I know excessive angel travel upsets your equilibrium, and I’ll have to visit many places before I find something suitable.”

Dean frowned, annoyed at the way he described how it affected Dean, which made it sound like it merely made Dean cranky and irritable, instead of messing with his head, digestion, sleep, and pretty much every other function he had, for a week or more. He’d gotten so he could take a single trip in a day without any problem, but he’d already been pushing it with the one from the church and then the one that brought them here, both in one day. “I ... I may be able to ...,” Cas said. He put his hand on the side of Dean’s head. “Focus on me,” Cas said softly. “I’ll try to keep you in a safe place with me as we go, your mind still.” Dean nodded and surrendered. There was nothing else for it. He could see in Cas’s eyes his great anxiety over the damage it could do to Dean, but leaving him here to freeze would be even worse. 

Suddenly, he was back at home with Cas on his land in his garden. It was one of their many afternoons just hanging out there, weeding and watering and talking. He felt so happy, like all was right with the world. He’d been worried a moment before, but he couldn’t seem to remember why. He would reach for it, but something would gently pull him away and back into this peace and stillness. He felt like he could stay here forever, like this was a little heaven that had been created just for him.

Then they were in a small hotel room and Cas was lowering him carefully onto the bed. “I believe I will be able to rent us a hotel room here for the night so we won’t have to fly anywhere else tonight,” Cas said, “but in the meantime, you will be safe here. No one will bother you. I’ll return immediately.” He slipped an envelope full of money out of Dean’s jacket, and disappeared.

“Hey, that’s American dollars! If we’re still in Norway ....” It was too late; Cas was long gone. Dean relaxed back on the bed, unable to do anything else. He felt his head. After angel travel, he always felt something he thought of as a kind of hangover, but actually, he felt fine, at least for the moment ... except for his legs. The feeling hadn’t started coming back into them, but he knew it would really suck once that was underway. He looked at some printout on the bedside table. It was in a foreign language, but for all he knew, they could just as easily be in South America as Norway.

Cas reappeared in the room, smiling. “They accepted our money. I was even able to request this particular room, so we won’t have to so much as walk down the hall.”

“Good, ’cos I can’t walk.”

Cas sat next to him on the bed, eyes full of sorrow.

“Don’t even start, Cas. You didn’t know.”

Despite Dean’s warning, he said softly, “I am sorry, Dean.”

“Stop it.”

Now the feeling was coming back. It sucked even more than he’d expected. Dean tried to hold it in, but he couldn’t help letting out a little groan, and the answering flicker in Cas’s agonized expression was even worse. “Distract me,” Dean said suddenly. “I could use a distraction.”

Cas reached for the remote, but Dean said, “T.V. in some foreign language isn’t gonna help anything. I want you. Let’s talk about something.”

Cas thought a little, and finally said, “Did ... did you like the place I created for you while we flew? Do you feel all right?”

“Yeah!” Dean said eagerly, trying to get the conversation going. Cas wasn’t exactly a great conversationalist, either. He could perfectly contentedly sit for hours with you, never saying a single word. “That was awesome! How’d you do that?”

“I reached into your mind, and ... well, the answer is quite complex and not sufficient to hold your attention.” Dean could see Cas madly casting around for something else to talk about. “Did you enjoy our wedding?”

Dean couldn’t help grinning through the wincing. The whole day had been one, long, happy memory for him. “Fuck yeah. You?”

Cas nodded, his eyes brimming with joy. “Yes. Very much so. And ... despite the rocky start, are you pleased with my ... wedding plan, for our honeymoon?”

Dean chuckled and took his hand. “Yeah. This is already awesome. We’ve just got to work out the kinks. Maybe tomorrow we could stop by the house so I could pack a variety of clothes.”

Cas looked confused. “But ... you wear identical clothing, regardless of the weather.”

Dean chortled. “All right, fair enough. But we’ve got to get me some kind of crazy giant coat if we’re going out to a mountain peak at night at the arctic circle again, ’kay?”

Cas nodded, abashed.

“Where are we now?”

“Still in Norway, in a small town near that mountain, so we can return later in daylight. That way we can use human means of travel as much as possible.”

“Cool, sounds good.” Dean’s legs felt like they were constantly being stabbed. He had to get his mind off of it. He’d suggest sex, but he was in no shape to take control, and he’d already seen what happened when he let Cas do it. Still, there were other options. “Hey, I know. We could practice kissing again.” That was always entertaining, if nothing else.

Cas seemed saddened. “Have I inadvertently ruined our wedding night? I know how you were looking forward to it.”

Dean had been trying not to think of how bummed he was about that. He managed a careless smirk. “There’s nothing I could do to you that I haven’t done already.” He winked. “Besides, there’s always tomorrow. C’mon. Kiss me.”

“I could try to make love to you ....”

“Nah; let’s just kiss.”

Cas tried a little, but he was even worse at it than usual, and he soon gave up. One of the best things about Cas was that his emotions were always completely sincere and present; he never hid anything or forced himself not to feel something. Usually that made Dean happy, but at times like this, it really sucked. He’d barely been managing to keep his mind off his legs, but now Dean writhed as the tingling in his legs intensified and reached his feet. 

Cas seemed to understand what Dean meant about needing a distraction. He tried again to kiss him--differently this time, though. He put his hand on Dean’s side below his ribs, gazed into his eyes for a long, distracting moment, then slowly, softly, pressed his lips to Dean’s, continuing to stare into him as he did. The intensity of the blue held Dean riveted, and though it seemed weird to kiss with his eyes open, he did. It was worth it when he saw Cas’s expression soften and grow sensual at whatever he saw in Dean as he kissed him. Cas made a soft sound against his lips, and Dean found himself answering it with a sound of his own without even meaning to.

“That’s hot, Cas--” Dean began encouragingly, but Cas interrupted him with another kiss, this one involving just the very tip of his tongue pressed between Dean’s lips, gaze still holding Dean enraptured.

Cas’s eyes narrowed sensually as he read Dean’s response in his eyes. “I understand kissing now,” he whispered, and lowered his face to Dean’s neck, which he kissed just as slowly and deliberately. His hand also moved slowly from his side to his belly. Dean was all about lots of action in bed. He’d never done anything really intense and slow like this, but he found he was liking it--a lot. Dean squirmed as desire began to build in him, but Cas stopped him, saying very sharply, “No. Lie perfectly still.”

Dean chuckled softly. Mm. Dominant Cas, one of his favorites. He might get a wedding night after all, if things kept going like this. “Or what?” Dean challenged, enjoying the game.

“Or I’ll make you,” said Cas, dead serious. Cas lowered his lips to Dean’s upper chest. Dean barely moved, gasping a little, but Cas breathed, “I will make you.”

Dean found he couldn’t move. They’d done this before, and he always liked it. Cas usually tormented him with pleasure until he couldn’t stand it anymore, then kept going. Yeah, those were good nights. He smiled, remembering some of the wilder ones. This was different, though. He wasn’t sure exactly was Cas was doing, and now he couldn’t lift his head and see. All he could feel was Cas’s lips over his heart, his hand on his belly, but somehow, this was already really hot, maybe because now, Cas was finally doing it of his own free will, because he wanted to. He was doing it his way, and though his way might be weird, Dean always liked it, because he loved everything about Cas.

It must be some kind of magic, because Dean found himself fast sinking into a state of mindless pleasure. He felt like he was falling, but he didn’t resist, because Cas was in control and he knew he was in good hands. He couldn’t tell when his eyes were open and when they weren’t, because as when Cas took him to that peaceful place while flying him around, he wasn’t always seeing this room, or it didn’t seem like he was, anyway. He wasn’t sure what or if he was seeing, until Cas’s eyes were right there again, peering into his, and Dean couldn’t help smiling drunkenly to see them. He had the strangest feeling that, at this moment, he could see into those endless eyes even with his eyes closed.

“Is this all right?” Cas asked softly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Dean asked, or tried, but what came out sounded garbled and brief.

Cas peered a moment longer into his eyes, seemed satisfied, and put his mouth against Dean’s again, this time leaving it open against his, barely moving. It was ridiculously sexy, especially seeing the sensual look on Cas’s face, the desire, not to mention his expression of approval, like Dean had impressed him in some unexpected way. Cas usually sank into some altered state when they were doing it, seeming to let his human instinct take over, his angelic aspect taking a back seat; but right now, he--Cas, the angel he loved--was fully present. Dean hadn’t realized how much he’d longed for that until he finally had it. He didn’t want to feel like he was doing it with the Jimmy part of him; he wanted to feel like it was all Cas, and he wanted Cas to remember their lovemaking, every second of it, like Dean did, instead of leaving the memories behind with the altered state he was in. He felt Cas’s other hand cup his cheek tenderly. “I love you,” Cas whispered.

Dean tried to say it back, but again nothing intelligible came out. Cas seemed to get what he meant, though, and looked overcome with pleasure and joy of a sort only an angel could evince: an absolutely pure, unself-conscious ecstasy. “Don’t resist,” Cas murmured softly, and then the world seemed to explode. He could see Cas, all of him, because suddenly, Dean WAS Cas. He felt that pure ecstasy because somehow, right now, it was his. He felt Cas’s love for himself because it was his own. All those times he’d wondered what that angel saw in him, why he stayed with him, whether he understood love the way a human did, he had the answer now, absolutely, knew it all the way down to his cells: Cas loved him as completely and absolutely as a being could, as much as he loved Cas--not with all the desperation and uncertainty Dean loved Cas, because Cas’s love wasn’t dependent on Dean’s love for him; in Cas’s heart, it would simply be a fact of the universe, until the end of time. 

He was glad Cas had made it so he couldn’t move, because if he could, he felt like he’d come apart at the seams, and Cas was holding him together. He perceived and felt and knew more in that moment than any human could contain. The intensity of the bliss alone threatened to unmake him, because it was so far beyond human capacity. Still, he couldn’t be scared; the atoms that were once him would be absorbed into the vastness that was Cas, they would be one, and thus it would be no different from how it already was, and how it would always be.

As one, they explored every corner of the galaxy, of the universe. It seemed like the most natural, normal thing imaginable. Dean forgot the strange details of human life. He had always been here with Cas, part of Cas, doing these things, absolutely free from every fetter of his humanity. Even if it ended, it could never really end, because it lasted for an eternity.

 

Dean opened his eyes--or tried; they weren’t being very obedient. Cas was stroking his cheek softly, kissing him, which didn’t seem strange until Dean realized it had never happened before--Cas, kissing him on purpose, normally, sweetly, with feeling, like ... like he finally got it now. “Are you all right?” Cas asked him, one eyebrow quirking anxiously.

Dean moved his lips against Cas’s until he felt pretty sure he could actually work them right again. “Y--yeah. Yeah. I’m great. So ... much more than great.”

“Did I hurt you at all?” Cas whispered. 

Dean was baffled. “How could you have?!”

Cas withdrew a little to look into his eyes. “Because I ... because I ... had angel sex with you. I touched your soul, Dean.”

Dean felt something huge move through him, shake him, maybe some aftereffect of the angel sex, maybe just some incredible sense of joy and relief and accomplishment and delight that they’d done it, they’d actually done it! “Bu--but I thought only, like, mystics and saints could ....”

Cas smiled. “There is more to you than even you are aware of, Dean Winchester.”

“Ooh. You almost never use my full name. It’s hot.” Something about hearing his own last name made something occur to him that they had never once discussed. “Hey--what about you? Are you--would you-- Cas, will you take my last name?” 

Cas looked flummoxed, so Dean pressed on, seeing his opening. “I mean, you’ve always used Novak, but that’s not your last name, that’s Jimmy’s. You never really had a last name, and we’re married now, and doesn’t ‘Castiel Winchester’ sound awesome? And sexy? I mean, most of the Winchesters are dead; I’d love to have another one in the family--”

“Yes, Dean, I would like that,” Cas said easily, as if changing one’s last name was as easy as changing your sheets.

“Cool,” Dean breathed happily. He moved his toes, now that he could, to find his legs and feet were now warm and fully recovered. He felt more sated than he ever felt after sex. He couldn’t ever remember feeling happier. Getting married was awesome, and seeing the world was awesome, and angel sex was awesome! 

“Wait a minute,” Dean crowed suddenly, “are you saying you fisted me without even asking?!”

Cas’s eyes darted around nervously. “Er ... well, you showed no sign of discomfort, and you seemed to be enjoying it ....”

Dean cracked up, hugging Cas tightly to him, tears springing to his eyes. “We’re married,” he breathed suddenly into his hair. “We’re married, Cas! And after the angel sex, I mean ... we really are one now.”

Cas smiled that gentle smile of his, gazing right into his eyes that knew every piece of Dean, that had taken what had seemed broken beyond repair and put it all back together, better than it had ever been, even when he was fresh and young and nothing bad had happened yet, back when Mary and John Winchester were young and in love and holding their firstborn with pride, looking ahead to a happy, normal life that simply could never be. “We have been one from the moment we met,” Cas said, and kissed him.

 

~ The End ~

**Author's Note:**

> This story now has a sequel, called "Wings." You can read it at this URL: http://archiveofourown.org/works/849342


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